Fang
by VoxMaille
Summary: We may not understand or even like our siblings--but sometimes they're the only ones who understand *us.* Re-uploaded.


                        A/N: I promise never to actually kill one of the trio again. But I needed it for the set-up. I still believe the last part happened. Anyway, the set-up until the scene with Ron and Percy sounds a bit forced—can't seem to tweak it right. I also realize that Fang is the name of Hagrid's dog. . . can't find another name that has quite the effect I'm looking for.  And does anyone know where Hermione's from? My British geography is terrible. R/R would be lovely, if you could take a moment. 

Disclaimer: It's not mine—it never was—it never will be.  

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          

Two hands on the Weasley clock changed from "Work" to "Home" around 3:30 in the afternoon, nearly four hours earlier than Molly Weasley was accustomed to seeing either her husband or her son. 

They Apparated into the front hall, looking shell-shocked. 

            "Arthur?" Her voice rose. "What's wrong, Arthur? Has something happened?" Her husband looked sadly at her. Percy stroked the feathers of the tiny, uncharacteristically quiet owl perched on his hand. As though it were some kind of beacon, the sound of Mrs. Weasley's question seemed to bring Weasleys from across the house. Ginny peeked out from the living room.

            "Dad?" She caught sight of his and Percy's faces. "What's happened?" The twins hurried out from the kitchen.

            "Look, Mum," Fred said. "The Ever-Glue caramels in Percy's lunch were a joke, rea—" He broke off. George didn't say anything.

            "Where's everyone else, Molly?" Arthur Weasley sounded tired. "I'd like to speak with the family." 

            "Bill! Charlie! Ron! Here! Now!" Molly Weasley called for the three missing Weasleys. Bill and Charlie came from the back yard, grinning and sweaty from a Quidditch scrimmage. Vacations were excellent things, and with the war, they were in short supply now. Their faces suddenly faded. Ron came downstairs, muttering to himself.

            ". . .can't believe Ginny sent him to Hermione's _yesterday_ and he's still not back. How'm I going to owl Harry?" He also promptly shut up when he saw his family standing around his father. 

            "What is it, Arthur?" Mrs. Weasley asked. Her voice was low and tense. 

            "Today," Mr. Weasley's voice shook. "You-Know-Who started what we believe is his first large strike. This morning, most of the Ministry was summoned out to a pair of scenes, one in Gretton and one in Madingley." His shoulders slumped and Percy bowed his head. "The Death Eaters attacked two Muggle families who had or had had students at Hogwarts. It was—it was over before—" 

            "Madingley? That's where _Hermione's_ from, Dad!" Ron said urgently, interrupting. "Somebody's got to warn the Grangers. I don't think she even knows that there were other Hogwarts students in her area. And _Harry_, he lives with Muggles, too—does _he_ know what's going on? You _know_ that's who they're after." There was a moment, while Arthur Weasley regarded his youngest son with a strange look on his face.

            "Harry is safe. I can't tell you any more about that situation, but he's safe." Ron let out a sigh of relief. But his father wasn't finished. When he continued, Mr Weasley's voice was very soft. "Ron, the reason Hermione wouldn't have known about other Hogwarts students in Madingley is that the Grangers were the **only** Hogwarts family in that area." 

Everyone's eyes but Ron's went wide. Ginny made a noise in her throat.

            "What d'you mean, 'were the only family?' If _they_ were the _only _family then who—" 

Ron got it. His face turned pale. 

The room was utterly still. The rest of his family stood silently, looking at Percy and Mr. Weasley. Ginny had sagged against Fred, who was holding her up. George had his hand over his mouth. Bill and Charlie looked shocked. Molly Weasley was starting to cry. No one seemed to be paying attention to what anyone else was doing. Ron suddenly turned and ran upstairs.          

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          

"He's been up there for hours." Mrs. Weasley's voice was worried. The other seven people around the table looked grim. "I hope he's all right."

Charlie pushed his chair back. "I'll try and talk to him. See if—"

"No." Percy said. "I'll go." Everyone except Arthur Weasley looked at him, puzzled. His father's face had a mix of sympathy and pride on it. Charlie sat there, chair pushed back. Percy got up from the table.

"Excuse me." He left the kitchen and headed up the back stairway towards Ron's room. After a long pause, he could hear dinner and the sombre conversation starting again. There was George's voice—he assumed it was George—because George was the only twin who'd ask perceptive questions.

"Who was—who was the other family?"

Percy's jaw clenched as he heard the response drifting back.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          

Percy winced as he opened the door to Ron's room. The violent orange of the walls hurt his eyes. God, couldn't Ron see the Cannons were a lost cause?

"Go away." Ron was sitting on the end of his bed, holding something in his hands.

"Mum's worried," Percy said briskly. He didn't realize that his voice had slipped into its annoying "Ministry of Magic" tone. 

"I said, 'GO AWAY!'" Ron snarled and hurled what he was holding at Percy's face. Percy, for the first and probably last time in his life, caught what had been thrown at him. It was a ragged stuffed animal, barely recognisable. He squinted at it for a moment. It was a bunny—or it had been. "Can't you just get back to the Ministry where you belong?"

"If I thought it would help."

"Help? Of _course_ it's not going to help! It's useless." Ron was incredulous. "Fat lot of good your stinking Ministry did Hermione!" 

Percy looked at him. His voice changed, and he lost the tone he'd been adopting since before he became a prefect. "I know." 

Ron glared at his older brother, but there was something disbelieving about it. "So you admit the Ministry is worthless." It wasn't a question.

Percy shrugged.

"Then why the bloody hell do you keep going?"

"I guess I don't know anything else to do." He sat down, silently, the rabbit still in his hand. Ron stared for a minute, appearing as though he was about to tell Percy to leave again, but then he went back to his own thoughts. He didn't look up when he spoke next.

"What happened, then? How'd they find her?"

"We figure they used the reports from the Daily Prophet 3 years ago to pick out their first targets. You know, after Dumbledore was removed for a bit, no one kept what was happening out of the press. The Prophet might just as well have handed out addresses of Muggle-born students at Hogwarts. They appeared to be trying to follow the basilisk attacks. You-Know-Who's idea of a joke, I suppose." Percy sounded like a tape recording.  

"Was it . . . bad?" Ron's voice choked on the last part.

Percy closed his eyes, trying not to think about anything he'd seen. Silent houses, open doors. Empty . . . until you turned the corner. He wouldn't answer his brother—continuing on as if he hadn't heard. 

"We got the other families out as soon as we realised. The Finch-Fletchleys and the Creeveys are already in hiding." The names seemed to give Ron something concrete to hold onto. His brow furrowed.

"Then who was the other attacked family? That's everyone who was Petrified 2nd year, except Mrs. Norris, Nearly-Headless Nick and . . ." Ron trailed off. Percy gave him a wan smile. 

"Ministry didn't help Penny much either, did it?"  It hurt to say her name. Ron was horrified. 

"Why didn't you say something?" 

"I'm fine." Not even Percy believed what he said. No, he corrected himself internally. I will be fine. But right now that's as good as it gets. He looked down at the rabbit in his hand. 

"Still got Bun-Bun, eh, Ron?" Ron flushed a little. It was the first colour that had come into his cheeks.

"Gimme my rabbit back. And his name's Fang. Where'd you get 'Bun-Bun' from, anyway?" Percy passed the stuffed animal to Ron, who snatched it and threw it on the bed. 

"Just a—a name." Percy stumbled over the words.

"I don't know where Mum got that toy anyway. It sure had taken a beating before I got it. Can't believe I saved it this long. Used to think it would protect me from stuff. Kids' ideas, you know." Ron shook his head. "I know better than that now."

"Yeah." They were quiet again. After awhile, Ron broke the silence.

"I always kind of expected that she just would be somewhere, even if I wasn't there. And now I know that she's not anywhere right now. She was—" and here Ron looked like he was meaning to say something else. Percy knew anyway. Ron had never been good at hiding what he felt. "—one of my best friends and she's gone. Like that." He snapped his fingers.

"Maybe she is gone. I don't know, though. I'd like to think that they're not all gone—that there's something left of them with us." Percy hadn't meant to say all of that. His view of the room went a little blurry as tears welled up. "But, anyway," he finished abruptly, "we don't know, do we?" 

"I guess not."  Ron seemed sadder than before, but there was something different about it. Not as much anger, maybe. 

There was another long pause. Percy took a deep breath 

"Look," he said. "There's supper downstairs. At least go see what Mum made." Ron's eyes narrowed at the return of Percy's overbearing tone, but he nodded and they went down the stairs together.

            The scraggly rabbit lay on the bed, forgotten. 

*          *          *          *          *          *          *__

_The little boy screamed. His beloved teddy bear had suddenly grown legs and wiry hair and large pincer teeth and lots of beady eyes. He dropped it and backed away. It crawled toward him._

_            "Teach you to play with my things." The boy's older brother looked at him, laughing. The little boy started to cry. _

_            "Whizbeeeee! What's wrong with my Whizbee?" Their mother rushed into the room, followed by two other boys, one the double of the laughing boy and the other slightly older._

_            "Fred WEASLEY! What have you done to your brother's toy?" The older boy stopped laughing. _

_            "He broke my—"_

_            "I don't care WHAT your brother broke. He is younger than you. You know very well that it is not funny. Go to your room. This **instant,** young man." Fred, cowed by his mother's wrath, left the room. His twin snickered. Molly Weasley whirled on him._

_            "George?" George looked at his feet. "I didn't think so." His mother whipped out her wand and Whizbee turned back into a bear. Ron eyed it, not moving. "Honestly. It's all right now, dear," she said comfortingly to Ron. Ron didn't look as though it was all right, but Mrs. Weasley didn't notice. "Boys, I've got to go finish dinner. Play **nicely**." George went upstairs, still giggling quietly. The boy who had been standing behind him went over to the teddy bear on the floor. He poked it. _

_            "I think it's okay, Ron," he said softly. "Mum made it all right again." His brother just stared, wide-eyed. _

_            "I don't want it anymore." His three-year-old voice quivered. "Fred can have it." Percy looked up at him. _

_            "But it's Whizbee. It's yours."_

_            "I don't want it." Ron's chin stuck out stubbornly. Percy shrugged. _

_            "Okay."_

_            *          *          *          *          *          *_

_That night, as Ron curled up in bed, he realised how much he missed Whizbee. But he couldn't have that big almost-spider thing in his bed. He almost started sobbing again at the thought of it. The dark was so scary all alone without any Whizbee to keep him company. Fred was so mean. His eyes filled with tears. _

_            "Whizbee," he choked and rolled over to bury his face in his pillow. As he did, his hand fell on something. It wasn't another spider, was it? He pulled his hand back and then slowly reached out again. It was soft and squishy. It didn't seem to be alive. He pulled it out from under the covers. _

_            It was a stuffed rabbit, one-eyed and balding. Ron looked at it. The rabbit seemed okay. He smiled and hugged it to him. It wasn't Whizbee, but it would do for now._

_            "I'm going to call you . . ." He needed a fierce name. ". . . Fang." Ron snuggled down under the covers. Fang would protect him from anything out there. _

_            *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          _

_Percy stared up at the ceiling in his room. The room seemed awfully empty tonight. Not that he was afraid, because big boys don't get scared at night. Percy wanted to be a big boy very badly. And big boys like Bill and Charlie at Hogwarts didn't need stuffed animals to go to sleep. But maybe big boys could forget how dark it got at night. He swallowed, trying not to cry._

_            Then he heard a little laugh from down the hall. It sounded like Ron. _

_Percy didn't need Bun-Bun after that. _

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

            T. E.

A/N: Thanks for bearing with me. I hope it wasn't too terrible. 

I honestly believe that Percy would do anything for Ron and Ginny.

I know I'd do anything for my little brothers. 


End file.
